The last moments of the universe was flat-out beautiful. Within the first 24 hours, all the sciences and all the faiths came crashing down as reality showed what it really could do, such as lighting up the night sky. A rainbow bloom spread among the stars at a constant rate of five centimeters per second, when nobody was looking. There was no more night, after that.

On the eighth day, the clouds turned to seagulls and albatrosses. The seagulls wore silky red feathers. The albatrosses shone white from the eyes, an atomic fire burning in their spirit. Two eyewitnesses reported that the seagulls and the albatrosses trespassed our gravity well and flew to the moon, connecting their wings as a bridge for those still alive on earth. By the tenth day everyone had bothered to visit the moon, at least once. The fifteenth day was marked by humanity’s final war game as it seemed death was no longer possible. It was fun.

“I wish this never ended,” hoped Let, as she watched a nuclear sunrise just beyond the horizon.